00055: THE SIGNS OF BURNED OUT ARE SHOWING!!!

I have been directing for many years, more than I care to admit. In my long years as a theatre director, I have learned many things, mainly that I don't know everything. Throughout my directing tenure I have made mistakes from which I have learned some important lessons. Regardless of the benefits, the majority of those mistakes have been forgotten; they're gone with the wind. Others, however, still lurk in the back of my mind just to remind me that, although I may be a theatre director, I am not that good of a theater director. In short, the many mistakes I have made in my directing career have kept me in check. 

One of the biggest mistakes I made long ago, was allowing the artistic director of a certain company to influence my casting decision. I had the perfect actor for a specific role. And being that such role was very important within the show, I knew this particular actor was the perfect match for the role. This actor had the commanding voice the character required. They also had the singing chops the role demanded. (I was directing a musical.) They had the acting chops, the attitude, and a very clear understanding of the character. Yet, when it came to casting the show, I allowed the artistic director to dictate who the actor for that specific role should be. I knew it was the wrong choice, so I fought back, but after some going back and forth, I gave in and cast the person they wanted.

Through the rehearsal process, I quickly realized what an incredible mistake I had made by casting such an actor. I went back to the artistic director and voiced my worried about the casting choice. I was told I was exaggerating and that the actor was fine; "They just needed practice." A few days later, I unintentionally learned that the actor I had cast had provided a hefty donation and had also promised free advertising for the theater's season. You cannot imagine the anger and the disappointment I felt toward myself at that moment, as well as the guilt I felt for the rest of the cast. 

Through the rehearsal process I tried my best to ignore anger, doubts, and struggles; I honestly made an effort to work around the actor's inefficiencies. Behind the scenes, the cast worried about the actor's inability to perform its best and, behind closed doors, they continually questioned the reason(s) why I had cast such an actor. The night the show opened, the actor froze in the middle of his most important song. The orchestra kept on playing, revamping over and over, and over, but nothing. The actor just stood on stage, looking out the audience, terrified. Other actors tried to help him by "humming" the lyrics and some even started singing some of the lines. But no one knew what to do because no one ever expected the actor to completely freeze on stage the way they did. And as I witness such event from the audience, my heart sunk along with my body. By the time the actor came back from whatever stage fright trip they had taken, the damage had been done.

After the show, the company hold a reception for patrons, theater donors, special guests, the cast, and crew. The infamous actor didn't show. And I wish I could have done the same but, as a director, I was expected to mingle with the crowd. I tell you, I never felt so uneasy in my life, and if I'm a master at faking smiles and "good times," this was the biggest test and I passed with flying colors. The next day, when the theatre review appeared in the main city's paper (yes, those existed back then), all my greatest fears were confirmed. All the actors were praised for their work and efforts, except one, of course. But the majority of the review concentrated on the directing, stating that I, as a director, did not had a clear understanding of the material because of some of my casting choices. The theatre reviewer went on to say that I perhaps I was not the right person to direct that particular musical or any musical for that matter. That comment hurt me the most for just a few months before, a very successful run of a much bigger musical had ended, and I had been praised for my directing vision and my unique approach to the material. It hadn't been in that particular city with that particular company, but still.  

I tell this story for two reasons: the first one is obvious, such experienced scared me for life and even now, after so many years, it still hunts me. The second, which is something I had never spoken about, is the fact that my biggest theatre mentor, my first acting and directing teacher, my guide, told me how disappointed they were because of show's results. I tried to explain myself and I even said, "Look, you know I got this gig because of my work on Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Raincoat, which I directed and choreographed, by the way." It wan't my fault. I was forced to cast that actor. My mentor got very upset and even told me to stop making up excuses and accept my errors or I would never become a better person or director.

Our talk turned into an argument and I remember seeing my theater idol angrily walking away and leaving me standing in the middle of the room. After that exchange, I felt very disappointed in myself and also very hurt. I thought that if there was at least one person that could actually understand what had happened with that particular production, that person would be my mentor. Unfortunately I had created faulty expectations. As a result, I built a lot of resentment toward my mentor. In fact, after that encountered, we would never speak to each other again and I would never seek their mentorship. My mentor had been a pillar and theatre pioneer for the city and community, so when he passed, I only attended the funeral services, out of respect for said theater community. I was physically present but like Morales from A Chorus Line, I felt nothing. 

Today, I'm directing a play that could have been done with 12 actors. Instead, because I wanted to give opportunities to everyone and also "contribute to the building of our theatre program," I double the casting number. We have only been in rehearsal for a month and I'm already regretting my casting choice. Too many absences, too many unprepared actors, too many... well, no matter the reason(s), It's not their fault. I made the decision to cast them and I'm responsible to make sure they all understand the importance of punctuality and the responsibility of being part of a theatre production. 

I know that at the end, everything is going to turn out fine. The actors will know their lines and they will have their moment under the spotlight. The show will open and close and there will be something to celebrate by the end of the semester. Yet, the incidents happening right now, with students arriving late or calling in sick, is bothersome, and obviously is bringing up emotions and unresolved issues from the past. The skeletons in my closet are showing. 

There are sudden instances where I think I made the mistake of casting against my gut, and all because "I want to give students opportunities and help our theatre department grow". Or maybe my mistake is that I'm too soft nowadays and don't rule with an iron fist as I used to. Or maybe I'm just too old now to deal with the younger generations and their woke approaches to everything. Or maybe I have reached my limit, I'm burned out, tired, old, and directing shows with big cast numbers is no longer something I should be doing. Or maybe the time has come to retire. Yes, that's it! The time has come to retire. Wouldn't it be lovely? Unfortunately I'm too poor to stop working and not old enough to call it quits. I just have to take this project one day at a time, breathing every time I get a notice saying that so and so won't be there because of "this and that," and breathing once again because an actor doesn't have a pencil to take down blocking or they decided to go to the greenroom the moment they stepped out of their scene. Whatever the news, I just have to take big breaths and keep on going. 

Breathe, Carlos-Manuel. Breathe. 

00054: WHY WOULD I MISPRONOUNCE MY OWN NAME?

Let's start with the obvious. Irma Herrera is not an actor, and I don't mean this in a negative way. She's a "writer, solo performer, social justice activista, lawyer, and world traveler." That's how she introduces and identifies herself on her website, irmaherreradotcom. But more than a "solo performer," I would say Irma is a storyteller and she proves that in her one-woman show: "Why Would I Mispronounce my Own Name?" presented at Central Stage in Richmond CA.

The original production was directed by Rebecca Fisher and while I don't know the exact date of the show's original opening, information from Irma's website makes me believe the show first happened around the year 2021. The production I saw last September 2024 still credits Rebecca Fisher as the director. 

The show tells the story of Irma herself, who talks about the fact that her name is pronounce IRMa or, in my better phonetic English assimilation: ear-ma but never ur-ma or ERma. Not only does Irma talks about the importance of standing up to people who mispronounce your name but also about the courage it takes to stand up and correct them when mispronouncing it. I connected with this bit of the show, mainly because my name is Carlos-Manuel and back in high school some teachers called me Karlos-Manual... and I never corrected them.

In her show, Irma also addressed the issue of colorism within our own community and how her mother always told her she was "como una mosca en la leche-like a fly in the milk," referring to the fact that her skin was darker when compared to other family members. This section of the show made me laugh because, when I was young, while we never say anything related to flies and milk, we always use the word "prieto" when trying to remind someone that they were not as "white as they should be" or worse, as "white as we were." For the record, we are brown people, darker than our European American neighbors. We have never, ever been white. 

Irma's show does not just revolved on her personal experiences growing up but also addresses national issues such as politics and the danger of using and/or making fun of names which are different than those used by European Americans. She also highlights the irony about being a person of color and serving in the military but then, when done from your military duties, being ignored, mistreated, and worse, killed in the country you defended. The irony is, if it escapes you, fighting and surviving a war only to comeback to the country you were born and then be shot by racist people, who demand you go "back to your country" because of the color of your skin. Sad but very much a reality in the "greatest country of the world."

As a storyteller, Irma carries herself with ease, and her soft voice forces the audience to closely pay attention to her words and narrative. And while her show is already written, it is easy to note, at least to me, where new information was inserted in order to keep some of the discussed subjects as current as possible, which works fine because the one-hour show is full of insight, educational tidbits, jokes, personal moments, connections with the audience, and a few surprises that make "Why Would I Mispronounce my Own Name?" a must see theatrical experience. 

00053: CHOIR BOY

The first time I heard about Tarrell Alvin McCraney was for his play WIG OUT!, which I saw at the Royal Court Theatre in London. The show was an unforgettable theatrical experience so, naturally, when I was in NYC and ran into information about a new play by the author, I had to see it.

It turns out the play was CHOIR BOY, a play I knew nothing about except for the fact that, because of its titled and its author, I figured it had to do with gospel music. I was partially correct. The show takes place at the Charles R. Drew Prep School for Boys, a private all black male institution. The story revolves around a young man named Pharus who, after waiting for years takes his rightful place as the leader of the legendary gospel choir. But of course, Pharus has his secrets and so does everyone else around him.

Fast forward to the present, September 2024. Shotgun Players in Berkeley, CA is producing Mr. McCraney's play. So naturally, I had to go see it, mainly because I teach a Queer Theatre class and this is one of the plays I ask student to read so we can have discussions about it. Having a live production "refresher" was not a bad idea.

CHOIR BOY is a gay theme play and Pharus is a young gay man who wants to succeed as a choir leader. But hardly anyone is ready for Pharus' life style and the school will make any effort to dismiss Pharus, while his classmates will either dislike him for being gay, behaving in very homophobic ways, or will tolerate him because well, perhaps it is the best Christian thing to do.

The production at Shotgun Players was entertaining. The group of actors portraying the prep students, as well as the two actors playing school figure authorities committed to the roles they played. The singing was glorious and the choreography was eye-catching. Unfortunately, at least for me, not everyone was on point. From the 8-actors ensemble, four of them stood out. Wesley Barker who played AJ James and Pharus' roommate was very charismatic and caring. Chachi Delgado as Junior Davis carried his role with lots of energy and his singing and dancing were high quality. Omar Stewart  showed a lot of vulnerability and insecurity as David Heard. As we see him loving and hating his situation, we come to like him, dislike him, but also understand him. Malcom B. Rodgers as the "white" professor was outstanding as someone who carry himself with both authority and concern for the students. 

The rest of the ensemble was a series of hit and misses. William Schmidt singing was potent but his portrayal of Pharus didn't carry enough emotional vulnerability to truly make me care of his situation. Miles Meckling, as the troubled bully, was extremely too angry and confrontational that his character almost became a stereotype. Brandon DiPaola as "Ensemble Member" and Fred Pitts as Headmaster are easily forgettable, despite the fact that, unlike Mr. DiPaola, Mr. Pitts has a major role in the story. 

For me, the singing and the choreography were the best part of the production. Every actor playing a student had a very strong voice. It is clear they worked hard for the production because their harmonies were on point and a welcoming sound to hear. And while the choreography was eye-catching and creative, it is clear that not everyone in the ensemble is a dancer. Yet, the actors committed to the execution of every single step, shape, and movement. 

When I first saw the show in London, and later in NYC, the productions were about 90 minutes long, Shotgun Players' production ran 1 hour and 50 minutes without intermission, most of the extra time is attributed to the scene changes, which unfortunately pull you away from submerging into the story to truly fall in love with the characters. 

Overall, though, the production is worth seeing, especially because of the singing and the choreography. Tarrel Alvin McCraney's script is strong, containing some very good one-liners that made the audience laugh out loud or shriek in disgust or shock, and all those reactions are expected when one watches a play written by Mr. McCraney. CHOIR BOY is not an essay play to produce. It requires an ensemble of young people who can act, sing, and move with authority and ease. Shotgun Players production's efforts to reach such goals are almost there. For this reason along, and for the fact that Darrell Alvin McCraney's script is so beautifully written, attending this production is worth our time. 

00052: MEXODUS

A few days ago I attended the production of MEXODUS, a new hip-hop play by Brian Quijada. This new production took place at Berkeley Rep in Berkeley, CA.  

I was excited to see this production for two reasons, three really. 1: "Mexodus" is a Latinx play and Berkeley Rep hadn't produced one of them in a while. 2: "Exodus" is a hip-hop play and I love hip-hop, and when mix with theatre, I'm in heaven. 3: "Mexodus's" subject matter is a topic I had never heard of and was incredibly interested in learning about it. 

Since this is a new play and Berkeley Rep loves sharing information about their new works by putting displays in their theater's lobby, I arrived about 45 minutes before curtain time so I could have time to read all the dramaturgical information. 

As expected, the lobby display valuable information about the Mexican border, the Treaty of Guadalupe, and how Texas wanted to be an independent state even before the United States was the United States. The main display included data related to the play's topic: The Underground Railroad between Texas and Coahuila, Mexico's border state, that aided many slaved blacks found freedom. After reading the lobby displays and finding my seat in the theater, I was ready to let myself be engulfed in "Mexudos." 

The play only has two characters: Carlos and Henry, played by Brian Quijada (also the playwright) and Nigel D. Robinson respectively. The show (directed by David Mendizábal) starts with both actors coming on stage and introducing themselves first and then letting the audience know that they will be creating all the music and beats live in front of us. Soon, we are transported to cacophony of sounds coming from all types of objects found on stage. These sounds are looped through a mixer found on a Dj's table. 

Within the first two songs there is no doubt that both actors are incredibly talented. They make music, creating beats, deejaying, and rapping and entertaining the audience. After four songs, a pattern has been stablished. There is a little bit of information on "this and that" and then a hip hop song. More information about "this and that" and then another hip hop song. And after the fourth song it felt predictable and I was looking at my watch. 

After the fourth song things change though. The story about Henry, a black slave, starts to take shape as we follow Henry's struggles and journey to freedom. But here is where the problem lies with this play. While I believe Quijada's play carries a very strong message and one that is very necessary to impart, ironically, the message, and ultimately Henry's story is placed in the back burner due to the fact that much emphasis and focus and given to the creation of beats, rapping, deejaying, and music mixes. Instead of feeling as if I was watching a hip hop play, I felt I was attending a hip hop concert where a loosely story was being sporadically being told to sort of give way to more hip hop moments. By the time Henry finds the tunnel that will take him to the underground railroad and ultimately lead him to his freedom, I was disengaged from the story. I was not emotionally involved. The end was so anticlimactic that, but the time I was standing on the street right after exiting the theater, my thoughts and my theatrical experience with "Mexodus" was gone. 

I am not saying the production wasn't good. It was. And both actors are far more talented than I would ever be. But as a play, the script lacks focus and it is in the need of a good dramaturge, of someone who can help Mr. Quijada, as a playwright, find the spine of the play so his story can be central within the hip hop world he has created. 

The hip hop numbers need to thrust the story forward and help create the development of the main character, this is something that doesn't really happen. There are nice moments here and there, like when the actor Nigel, shares a personal anecdote about his birth and how as a black man, coming from generations of black people, and slavery, he now stands on a professional stage, but overall the story and the character's journey take a backseat. 

And because the actors break the fourth wall from the start, there were times when I wasn't sure whether it was the actor or the character communicating with us. A moment that comes to mind is when Mr. Quijada, as Carlos, enters from the audience and starts a fire. The fire effect is created with a small orange light and the crackling fire sound is created by Mr. Quijada's snapping fingers, which are recorded and loop by the actor Nygel who is standing behind the DJ table. All was good until Mr. Quijada look up to the audience and gesture to the fact that he had made the sound of crackling fire. Some of the audience members laughed, others clapped. It was a "tongue in cheek" moment that was confusing because we are forced to ask ourselves who is breaking the fourth wall, the actor or the character. If it's the actor, why would he do that? To let us know how clever he is as a sound maker? If it's the character, why would he do that? So far, Henry's story has been kept completely behind the fourth wall. Perhaps this is not a playwriting thing but a directorial thing. Either way, moments like this keep the audience from engaging with Henry's story, which by now, has taken a backseat anyway.

As I said earlier, the message and the story that Brian Quijada presents in "Mexodus" is much needed and necessary. But in order to truly have an effect and in order to truly makes us understand how far we have come and how "we gon be alright" as Kendrick Lamar's lyrics blast through the speakers, there needs to be a flip in the focus of the play, where the story must be completely integrated into the hip hop numbers rather than the hip hop numbers becoming the central focus of the production. Otherwise "Mexodus' is not a play about the "Southbound Pathway to Freedom," but an opportunity for two very talented actors to showcase their artistic theatrical gifts. 

00051: THE LEHMAN TRILOGY

Original Poster National Theatre

Let me start this entry by saying that I have seen this show more times that I ever planned to see it. The first time I saw it was when it first opened at the National Theatre of London back in July 2018. I wasn't planning on seeing it but a friend told me about it and well, I just had to go see it for myself. The production I saw was directed by Sam Mendes, and the only actor from the three actors in the show that I knew of was Adam Godley. 

The show was fantastic. One of the best shows I saw that year and I couldn't stop talking about it. In fact, once back home, I talked about it so much that my theatre friends and colleagues told me to stop talking about it. I did. But by then, one of my good theatre friends bought tickets to the production that was coming to the American Conservatory Theatre in San Francisco. This was back in April/May 2022. Unfortunately, the show was canceled for reasons that were never explained. 

Fast forward to spring 2023. I am on sabbatical in Italy for six months and during my birthday week (April 2023) I decided to treat myself to visiting London and see as many plays and musicals as possible. Yes, I saw many plays and musicals, and one of them was, you guessed it, The Lehman Trilogy. 

The Lehman Trilogy (West End, London)

This time the show was playing in the West End at the Gillian Lynne Theatre. I didn't even know it was playing. I was just walking around the London's Theatre District, and viola, there it was. So, I bought me a cheap ticket and decided to see the show. This time I was going to see the play because I wanted to see if the set and all the technical elements from the original production had transferred over. They did. The production starred Nigel Lindsay, Michael Balogun, and Hadley Fraser. They were not the same cast from the national theatre, and the three actors were people I had never heard of. The production was, as expected, as good as the one from the National. 

A year later, in May 2024, The Lehman Trilogy finally made its way to A.C.T. San Francisco. My theatre friend, who already had bough tickets for the one a year before, had tickets and invited me. This time I went with the idea to look at the writing structure of the play. The cast was the same from the Gillian Lynne Production and under Sam Mendes direction. 

I came out of this third viewing talking about two things: The writing and the Directing. The show is called "The Lehman Trilogy," which is about the three original Lehman brothers and their dependents, and how they founded their companies/bank. The show has three acts, which parallels the three brothers. Many of the lines in the show are broken into phrases or fragments. These phrases or fragments come in groups of three. There are many instances where lines and beats are also written in threes, while words or line motifs are also repeated in threes.

SCT's Lehman Program

When it comes to the directing, the blocking and movement is also repetitive and circular, and yes, the repetition and the circular motion of the show also comes in threes. Many of the gestures, mannerisms, and poses the three actors execute throughout the show, while playing different characters, are also repetitive. At times, the physical repetition is done immediately and other times, the repetition is done in one act and repeated later in another, mirroring situations or connecting characters' behavior, the same dramatic action or emotional simile. 

I truly enjoyed watching the show this third time, mainly because I was now looking at the production very objectively, keeping close attention on how the play had been written and how the production had been directed. I cared less about the emotional arc of the characters and concentrated more on the show as a piece of art that needed to be analyzed by someone who continues to learn about writing plays. 

Now that I look back at the excitement I felt when I first saw the show back in 2018, I can say that I couldn't stop talking about it to my theatre friends and colleagues because the show not only impressed me as a production but I was very much trapped by its writing structure and directing approach without even knowing it. The Lehman Trilogy is an excellent piece of writing, and as a production, the show is a visual and acting feast. 

OO50: THE KENNEDY CENTER FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS

Kennedy Center, Washington, DC 2024

Back in November 2023, my new play "CURSED: The House of Atreus" was produced at Contra Costa College under my direction. Yes, that is the institution I worked at. The play was entered to the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival, Region 7 competition. Two different judicators saw the play and gave their responses. 

In December 2023 I received the news that the production had been chosen to be part of the Region 7 Festival in Spokane, WA, taking place in February 2024. From January 2024, even before schools started, all the way to festival time, the cast, crew, and I worked hard at "remounting" and "re-blocking" the show for the one performance at the festival. The festival took place the third week of February and our producing came and went. Students had a great experience performing for everyone at the festival. I was honored to receive great responses from the audience and the many respondents who saw the show, including national members of the Kennedy Center for the Arts and the Dramatist Guild. 

Because I'm a national member of the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival, I had to attend the National Festival at the Kennedy Center in Washington DC in May. What I didn't count on was receving National Awards for our production of "CURSED: The House of Atreus." At the end, though, I was very happy to received NINE national awards, including awards in directing, playwriting, and ensemble production. As if that wasn't enough, two of the awards were The Citizen Artist Award, (highest honor from KCACTF) and the Brave Spaces Award (a little complicated to explain but a very honorable and high esteemed honor.) I knew my play was a good play. As a theatre artists you know when a theatre piece is good or not. I wasn't surprised we were invited to perform our show at the regional level. I wasn't even surprised if one or two national awards were given for our show. It was, though, completely surprising to received nine national awards, and receving validation as both playwright and director. 

When I was at the Kennedy Center, in front of all the attendees, receiving the awards, I had a big smile on my face. At the same time, I had an incredibly desire to cry, not because of the awards (although I'm sure that is a reason to) but because I suddenly remember how much work and dedication I had invested in order to be standing there. And I don't mean just writing and directing the play, but writing, directing, acting, and, overall, dedicating my life to the theatre while constantly trying to survive as a non-English speaking immigrant at first and later as a brown gay immigrant individual.

My trek as a student in the United States started at the age of 18 years old as a junior in high school. Yes, I was already "of age" but a counselor was able to get me through the system. I was 19 years old when I learned about "theatre" as a field of study. At 21 I was writing short stories, grammatically incorrect most of the time, but I was expressing myself. I wrote my first play at the age of 22. It was the most awful thing I had ever written. My English 1B teacher, also a theatre enthusiast, gave me an "A" for the assignment, not because it was good but because I had dared to take a short story and turn it into a 67-single space play, with speeches that were three to five pages long, all written by hand. When I say the script was awful. I mean it was just awful. But my teacher understood that such script was not about its quality but rather about my desire to write despite the fact I was still learning the English language. This was back in 1988.

Thirty-six years later, I was now standing at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts receiving the highest award a theatre artist could received, as well as receiving eight other awards for a play I had written and directed a few months before. I'm still trying to figure out how I did not burst into tears at that moment, again, not necessarily because of the awards but because of the hard work and dedication I had invested from the day I step foot in a country I did not know at all. And all, because my mother sacrificed everything so her children could have a much better life than the one she had. These honors, of course, are all dedicated to my her first and also to my theatre students and the theatre colleagues who made this experience unforgattable. 

Before the semester was over, one of my non-drama students ask if I was ever hoping to be a "Broadway success." I quickly said no. I always knew I wanted to be a teacher." So I became a university professor. But I also knew I like the performing arts. Acting, directing, and playwriting became the vehicle(s) to achieve my dream: teaching. 

I had never had the desire to be a famous playwright or famous actor or a famous theatre director. Of course if the opportunity were to present itself I wouldn't reject it, but I've never been actively pursuing such goal because I have always known my passion has lied in teaching. I know this because after my first time out of graduate school, I took a corporate job and after one year I was desperately trying to get out. So, when the opportunity arrived, I took it. Once out, I promised myself to figure out how to become a university professor so I went back to graduate school to pursue a degree in playwriting. 

And so, here I am, reflecting on my teaching years, and wondering what has become of the many students I've mentored. I know some of them have become theatre teachers themselves, others have become theatre artists, like A. Zell Williams, who is an award-winning playwright and TV producer. Or Todd Thomas who is the former founder/artistic director of Missing Link Theater Company and former artistic director of Murphy's Theater, and continues to be an actor today. Their achievements have been their own and they are well deserved. I pride myself, however, in the fact that that I may have to do a little bit with their success. Not much though, but I do remember trying my best to guide them in the right direction.

The awards I received are in my office and soon they will be displayed in our college's theater lobby. I'm glad they will be there. And despite the fact that I'm now contemplating retirement, I'm now drafting two new plays, which, despite their quality, could become the last plays I write. But one never knows because even though art is challenging, once the artistic bug bites you, the symptoms are forever.  Or better put, as Stephen Sondheim wrote in Sunday in the Park with George: "White. A blank page or canvas... so many different possibilities."  

00049: MJ MUSICAL

MJ: The Musical

I must start by saying I do not like jukebox musicals very much. I have many reasons why I don't like them, but mainly because they seem to be created with little originality, following a simple, uncomplicated, and very predictable structure and storyline. You may disagree with me but that conversation is for another time.

Because of my dislike with jukebox musicals, I was not expecting MJ: The Musical at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, to be much of a show. It is a jukebox musical after all, and my experiences with such shows have been disappointing. The same can be said about musicals based on films, which is a topic I will address in a different blog entry. 

And so, I arrived to the show with conflicting feelings. I didn't expect much of this jukebox musical but deep down I wanted the show to be good because Michael Jackson became my favorite music artist after he came out with "Off the Wall," the only music album by Michael that has been inducted in the Grammy Hall of Fame. And while I don't wear Michael Jackson T-shirts or the white glove, or anything remotely related to Michael Jackson, like many audience members did when I attended the show, I do consider myself a fan. He is the King of Pop after all.

The Orpheum Theater, SF CA

I first have to say how much I enjoyed the beginning of the show, which was "a rehearsal," where a band and dancers were warming up while waiting for Michael to arrive. And when he arrived, he only had a couple of words to say and off they all went into rehearsing a musical number. And from that moment on, I was hooked. And while I knew a lot about Michael's life, musical challenges, and career obstacles and tribulations, it was how the musical was structured and how the plot was set that made this jukebox musical very different from the others I have watched. All thanks to playwright extraordinaire, Lynn Nottage. Yes, there was a plot element that aided in transporting us to Michael's past as a child and slowly moving forward to "the present." But again, its very tight structure and its smart sequence of events within the show made MJ: The Musical a delight and entertaining theatre piece.

One of the many reasons I don't really like jukebox musicals is because, since the majority of songs in such musicals are well-known pop songs or well-known songs by the artists the musical is about, most of the time audience members start to whistle, holler, clap, and/or cheer when they hear their favorite song. At times, audience members get up from their seats and start to dance and even worse, sing, as if they were at a concert. This type of behavior, whether justified or not, is one of the many reasons I dislike jukebox musicals. So throughout the show, while enjoying MJ: The Musical, I was always nervous that some fan would start "joining the fun." And there were a couple of times when that almost happened, but the way the show is written and the way the songs are arranged for the musical, made it difficult for unwanted audience participation to occur. In fact, there was a moment when people started clapping to the beat with a certain song (I think it was Man in the Mirror.) But a few seconds after that, the audience had to stopped because the music rhythms changed and the vocals were done not just by "Michael Jackson" but also by other characters on stage. When that happened, I smiled and I think I even uttered (very softly) the word "yes" in a moment of triumph. 

The merch was selling out! The stage was awesome!

Besides having a very good structure and plot, the acting, the choreography (by Christopher Wheeldon), and the dancing in this musical were amazing. There were times when I thought I was watching a traditional musical with traditional musical numbers with a twist. So as a jukebox musical, the show is so different and so unexpected that it surprises you. At least, it surprised me. 

The show is also very artistic. Even though we are following Michael's life as an artist while putting together his "Dangerous Tour," the show gives the audience the opportunity to understand where Michael's dancing inspiration came from. The transition from the opening number in act two into "Smooth Criminal" becomes a dance history lesson, a homage to great American dancers, such as Fred Astaire, Bob Fosse, and The Nicholas Brothers, artists who made an appearance in the musical, and artists who influenced Michael Jackson's moves, such as the pelvis thrust and the infamous moonwalk. And believe me, the transition from one number to the next is as smooth as the title of the song itself. 

The choreography is top notch; the musical arrangements are unexpected, the dancing is superb, the acting and "off the wall,” and the singing, oh, the singing is just glorious. Everyone in the cast has its moment to shine and everyone in the cast who ended up playing more than one character is magnificent. But of course, the show would be nothing if there wasn't an actor who could embodied Michael Jackson's body and spirit, and the night I went, actor Roman Banks was that vessel, the conduct for Michael Jackson's spirit. Mr. Banks walked, spoke, sang, and dance like the late "King of Pop," making this musical a delight to watch.

At the end, because of the great writing by Ms. Nottage, because of the great Michael embodiment by Mr. Banks, because of the unique choreography by Mr. Wheeldon, and because of the great artistry by the ensemble and the technical team, MJ: The Musical was an unexpected jukebox musical I enjoyable and turned my night at the theatre, truly enjoyable.